


When Traditions Collide

by bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies



Series: Gold In The Cracks [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Holidays, Jewish Pidge, Lance is so excited for the holiday season, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, technically part of the soulmate AU but this has no mentions of soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies/pseuds/bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies
Summary: Lance learns something new about his partner that changes his outlook on the winter season(Set in the "Gold in the Cracks" soulmate AU series, but this short little fic makes no mention of soulmates and can be read on its own)





	When Traditions Collide

**Author's Note:**

> *sweats* I was supposed to get this up by Hanukkah... then Christmas... I guess now it's a happy new year present.
> 
> This is set sometime after Pidge and Lance have started sharing an apartment in college in the middle of Kintsugi, but you don't have to have read it to enjoy this little snippet. Just know that Pidge is aro-ace and Pidge and Lance are in a QPR.
> 
> (Also, I headcanon Lance as having ADHD, which I mention in this, and what he does is based on things I’ve done. Everyone who has ADHD is different, of course, and not everyone acts the same way, and I’m not trying to offend anyone with this, I’m just using my own ADHD experiences as inspiration)

It’s not unusual for there to be a little white noise in their apartment.  Lance likes to cook, and when he cooks he likes to listen to his ipod, so the sound of humming and sometimes shuffling dance moves combines with the sizzling and chopping sounds coming from the kitchen.  It’s also not unusual to hear one or both of them moving things around or dropping them (or in Pidge’s case, walking into a wall or bumping into a piece of furniture because their eyes are glued to their phone).  Furthermore, the walls of their cheap college apartment are practically paper-thin, so they can usually hear their next-door neighbors or the people below them through the wall.

As such, Pidge doesn’t look up or even really notice when a cacophony of thunks and thuds come from the living room.  They have a calc final exam coming up, so their focus is lasered-in on their textbook.  They don’t even notice when Lance starts humming, since that isn’t anything out of the ordinary.  They do, however, notice when their calculator batteries suddenly die.  They flip the calculator over with a disgruntled growl, although they’re grateful it had the good grace to die now rather than in the middle of the exam.  There should be more batteries in the junk drawer in the kitchen, they think. They pop open the back as they stand up from their desk chair, shouldering open their bedroom door while they pry the dead batteries out.   

Pidge looks up and stops in their tracks at the sight.  The living room, which is usually about as clean as two college students care to keep it, now looks like it has been the scene of a violent battle between a deranged lumberjack and a rogue arts-and-crafts teacher.  Little piles of bushy green fake evergreen branches litter the floor, along with boxes of shiny plastic balls and strings of tinsel.  A strand of lights is strung haphazardly across the room, one end tucked into the curtain rod over the window and the other end draped over the TV in the corner.  Sitting in the middle of it all is Lance, who is wearing a truly atrocious Christmas sweater and fitting fake tree branches onto what appears to be a fluffy green lightsaber.  Only the top branches are in place so far, so it looks like the bizarre offspring of an evergreen and a palm tree.  

“What the quiznak are you doing?”  Pidge asks, perplexed.  Lance turns around and grins.  

“Pidge!  Hey!  I was thinking we could combine our Christmas decorations and end up with the most festively-decorated apartment.  It’ll be awesome!”  He says.  

“If the current aesthetic is anything to go by, it’ll certainly be something.”  Pidge mutters, carefully stepping around fake evergreen fronds to get to the kitchen.  

“It’s a little messy now, but it’ll look awesome in the end.”  Lance says, poking another branch into the tree.  

“A  _ little  _ messy?”  Pidge arches an eyebrow at the Santa-shaped coffee mug sitting on the counter in the kitchen.  Why would anyone want to drink Santa’s liquefied brain?

“All part of the decorating process, Pidgey.”  Lance says.  “Come on, go get your Christmas decorations and join me!”  

“I don’t have any.”  Pidge says, digging around in the junk drawer for more batteries.  

“What?!”  Lance pokes his head into the kitchen, looking scandalized.  “Did you leave them at home when you came to college or something?”  

“Nope.”  Pidge says, sticking the new batteries in their calculator.  “Don’t own any.”

“You really didn’t bring  _ any  _ decorations at all?”  Lance asks.  “Nothing at all to celebrate this entire winter season?”

“Oh, you know what, I do think I have one thing.”  Pidge says thoughtfully.

“Go get it!”  Lance tells them.  

Pidge carefully steps over the fake foliage again and goes back into their room.  They leave the calculator on their desk and grab a small pewter menorah off their bookshelf, bringing it back to the living room.  They set it down on the countertop.  “There, done.”

Lance stares at the menorah for a few moments, eyes flicking between it and Pidge, who is already heading back to their room.  “Wait, you’re Jewish?  Since when?”

“Since I was born.”  Pidge replies.  “I’m going back to studying.  Have fun.”  

“Not so fast!”  Lance scrambles to his feet and looks around the living room, brow furrowing in concentration.  Suddenly his eyes brighten.  “Aha!  Got it!”  He picks up a box of multicolored ornaments and covers the red and green rows with his arm.  “We’ll only put up blue and silver decorations!  Then it will be like a Hanukkah tree!”  

Pidge arches an eyebrow.  “You do know there is literally no part of Hanukkah that involves a tree, right?”  

“But we can combine both Christmas  _ and  _ Hanukkah stuff!”  Lance says excitedly.  “Since we both live here, it only makes sense!”  

“No, you know what makes sense?  Studying for our final exams, which are  _ next week _ .”  Pidge says.  “Something you should probably be doing, too, by the way.”  

“I’m taking a study break.”  Lance says easily.  “You should, too!  Give your brain a rest and let it digest all that review stuff.”  

“No thanks.”  Pidge walks back to their room.  “At least try to keep it down out here.”  They close their door and sit down at their desk again.  

About fifteen minutes later, they’re suffering from a headache and an extreme urge to strangle their textbook, if that were possible.  As it is, they just let their head thunk onto the book with a groan and rest there for a minute or two with their eyes closed.  They’re not making any progress.  They’ve been on this page for close to half an hour.  They’ve read and re-read this paragraph probably fifteen times and still haven’t been able to retain it.  They don’t think they’ve eaten anything since lunch before their noon class and it’s nearly eight PM now.  Much as they hated to admit it, it is probably time for a break.  

Pidge lets out a heavy sigh and sits up, reaching to turn off their desk lamp.  When they open their bedroom door, some of the mess has been cleaned up, or perhaps it just looks less messy now because Lance has more of the tree put together.  He looks up from poking one of the bottom branches into place.  “Hey, decide to come decorate with me after all?”  

“No, got hungry.”  Pidge walks past him to get to the kitchen.  “Also my brain has turned to mush.”

“I made dinner earlier.  Yours is in the fridge, if you want to heat it up.”  Lance says.  “And I told you that you should take a break.  Now who was right?”

“You weren’t wrong.”  Pidge refuses to say he was right.  They open the fridge and take out the tuperware container of leftovers; vegetable stir-fry with tofu and chicken.  “Thanks for making dinner.  I know it was my night to cook.”  

“It’s no big deal.  I knew you were probably studying.”  Lance says, reaching for another fake branch.  

“How come you’re not studying?”  Pidge asks while they reheat the leftovers in the microwave.  

“I usually get my studying done during the day.”  Lance says.  “My meds wear off by evening, so I try to get anything I really need to focus on done by around seven or eight.  I’m more productive in the mornings.”  

“Lucky.”  Pidge would kill to wake up and actually be a person by eight-thirty instead of a zombie searching for coffee.  They take the plate out of the microwave when it beeps and bring it over to the table.  Their apartment is small, with the kitchen and living room being open, so the table provides a front-row seat to Lance’s decorating debacle.  The stir-fry is still scalding, but Pidge doesn’t let that stop them from digging into their food, feeling ravenous.  

“So is that why you never eat my Cuban pork?”  Lance asks after a minute of silence.  

“Huh?”  It seems their study cram session has fried a few of their neural synapses.  

“If you’re Jewish, is that why you never eat the Cuban pork I make?”  Lance clarifies.  

“Oh.  Yeah, I don’t eat pork.”  Pidge says.

“Huh.  I thought you were just picky.”  Lance says.  Pidge briefly contemplates throwing a carrot at him.  “Is there anything else you don’t eat?  Like what is Kosher?” 

“Kosher foods are foods that conform to Jewish dietary laws, so meat from animals that have cloven hooves and and that chew cud, and any seafood that has fins and scales.  So no pork, wild boar, squid, or shellfish, basically.”  Pidge explains.  They pick up a package of cookies that are sitting on the counter and hold it out for him to see.  “Kosher stuff has this little symbol on it that means it’s alright to eat.  It’s usually a K or a U in a circle.”  

“Huh.  I never noticed that.”  Lance says, looking at it.  “I’ll keep that in mind, next time I’m in the grocery store.”  

“You don’t really have to worry about it.”  Pidge says.

“No, no, I don’t want to make a mistake and cook something you can’t eat.”  Lance says.  “Wow, I feel like a dick for all those mornings I offered you bacon.”

“Yes, tantalizing as your greasy pig flesh smells, I refuse to partake in it.”  Pidge deadpans.  

Lance chuckles as he gets to his feet.  “Alright, got the tree all put together.  Now we just have to figure out where it put it.”

Pidge looks up.  “You didn’t think about that  _ before  _ setting it up?”  

“Forethought is not my strong suit.”  Lance says, looking around.  “But I think if we move the couch out a bit and scoot the TV over…” he gets to work shifting the furniture around to make a space in the corner of the room, then tries to shove the tree into it.  “Hey, Pidge, come help me move this.”

“You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it.”  Pidge tells him.  

“ _ Piiiiidgeyyyyy _ ...”  Lance whines.  

Pidge rolls their eyes and sets their fork down.  “I will help you if you promise to never call me that again.”  Lance grins brightly at them around the tree.  Together, they manage to pick up the tree and walk it into the corner.  Pidge only traps him between the tree and the wall for about thirty seconds before backing up and letting him out, and then the two of them shove it the last few feet into the corner.  

“And now for the lights!”  Lance declares, picking up one end of the strand from where it was draped over the back of the TV.  

“And here I thought you were just leaving them like this.”  Pidge says, eyeing the lights strung at an odd angle between the TV and the window.  

“I just needed to put them somewhere they wouldn’t get all tangled up again.”  Lance says, unhooking the other end from the curtain rod and handing it to them.  

“Why am I getting roped into this?”  Pidge asks.

“Because you could do with taking a break and getting into the holiday spirit!” 

“This isn’t even my holiday!”  

“Well, now this house celebrates Christmahanukkah!”  Lance says.  “Good thing the lights I have are just white!  Now, I’ll wrap, and you keep the end from getting tangled.”  He stops and looks at the tree, connecting the pieces.  “Crap.  We put it next to the wall too soon.”  

“You’re really something, aren’t you?”  Pidge shakes their head fondly.

“I told you my meds wore off already.”  Lance sets the strand of lights down across the living room floor, not sounding bothered in the least.  “Now help me move it again.”  They shift the tree so there is just enough space between the tree and the wall to squeeze through.  Lance picks up the lights again.  “Okay, new plan, one of us will get the back and one will get the front.”  

Pidge has already resigned themselves to the fact that they’ll be helping Lance instead of going back to attempt studying again.  Knowing that they were considerably smaller than him, they squeeze around the tree to stand in the corner, plastic foliage tickling their legs.  Lance wraps one end of the lights around the top of the tree and passes the strand back to Pidge, who winds it around the back of the tree and passes it back to Lance on the other side.  They continue like that, making sure the lines of lights are evenly spaced, until they get to the bottom of the tree.  Lance plugs it in, and the white lights glow to life.

“Woah!  It looks great already!”  Lance says.  “Okay, come out and we can push it back.”

“Hang on,” Pidge holds up a hand, stopping him.  “Is there  _ anything else  _ that needs to be done before we move it again?”  

Lance pauses to think about it.  “Nope, we’re good.  Sometimes people decorate the back of the tree too, but since we’re only using about half of our ornaments, that won’t be a problem.”  

“You can use all of your ornaments if you want to.”  Pidge says, accepting his proffered hand while they wiggle out between the wall and the tree.  

“Nope, we’re making this a Christmahanukkah tree.”  Lance says.  “So tell me more about Hanukkah.  When is it?  Are you going home for it?”  

“I go to school six hours away from my hometown.”  Pidge reminds him as they push the tree back into the corner.  “I’m not going home every evening for eight nights.”  

“Then what were you planning on doing?”  Lance asks.  

“Honestly?  Probably nothing.”  Pidge says.  “The most I’ll do is probably call my family, maybe find a synagogue around here to go to, but I haven’t gone regularly since I still lived at home.”  

“Can we celebrate it together?”  Lance asks, opening the package of ornament balls.  “I’d love to learn about it.”  

“Why?”  Pidge asked, a little bemused.  

“Because you’re important to me.”  Lance says simply.  “And if it’s important to you, then I want to learn about it.”

Pidge blinks, taken aback by the statement.  Then the words catch up with them and they hide their reddening face behind another box of ornaments.  “... Stop being so cute.”  

“No can do.”  Lance chuckles.  “Being irresistibly cute is part of my packaged deal.  Comes with my fabulous cooking skills and lightning-quick reflexes.”

“And narcissism, apparently.”  Pidge quips, but Lance can see the fond smile on their lips and knows they don’t really mean it.  Pidge holds up an ornament ball and eyes the metal loop at the top.  “So how does this work, anyway?  You just stick the branch through it?”

Lance chuckles and grabs a small tin Altoid mints box.  “First you have to untangle a hook from this mess, then thread it through the loop and hook it to the tree.”

Pidge stares at the tangle of thin metal hooks.  “What in God’s name happened to that?”

“You know that thing where you put your ipod headphones in your pocket and they come out all tangled up no matter what?  I suspect that Christmas ornament hooks taught them that.”  Lance says, extricating a hook and handing it to Pidge.  They take it and wrap it around the ornament loop, looking doubtful.  Lance’s fingers are quicker from years of practice, and they both hang their ornaments up at the same time.  Lance grins at the shiny silver balls bobbing on the fake tree branches.  “Two down, twenty-eight to go!”  

“Yippee.”  Pidge tries to sound unenthusiastic, but they can’t help but crack a smile.  

While they continue hanging up ornaments, the two of them talk about their holiday traditions.  Pidge tells him about how they play dreidel and how Matt wins every year (Pidge suspects witchcraft, no way he’s that lucky) but he always shares his chocolate gelt anyway, he just wants bragging rights.  Lance makes them promise to teach him how to play sometime, too.  He tells Pidge about how his family has a wooden advent calendar where you pull out tree branch sticks every day to make a present drop to under the tree on Christmas Day, and he and his siblings all fight over who gets to pull out a stick.  He also tells them about the time his older brother told him in a petty argument that Santa wasn’t real out of spite, and he proceeded to tell his entire kindergarten class the next day, which led to a classroom of very distraught six year-olds and one  _ very _ unamused teacher.  Pidge says they remember having one or two other Jewish kids in their class in elementary school, and they all just traded knowing looks in silence whenever their classmates talked about Santa.  

By the time they had finished, they were both laughing at each other’s stories and they had a tree decked out in white lights and blue and silver shiny ornaments.  Pidge had to admit, it certainly did look nice.  

“And now, for the finishing touch!”  Lance proclaimed, pulling a gold glittery star-shaped tree-topper out of his decoration box.  He stands up and reaches up on his tip-toes, hesitating for a moment.  He turns the star onto its side, looking thoughtful.

“I’m not an expert, but I believe the top of the tree is supposed to go in the cone thing.”  Pidge pipes up.  

“Give me a minute, I’m thinking.”  Lance holds the star upside-down against the tree.  “If we do it like this, it’ll be like the Jewish star, right?”  

“That right there is a pentacle, a symbol of Satanism.”  Pidge tells him bluntly.  Lance nearly drops the star in surprise, and they chuckle at his expression.  “The star of David -- don’t just call it ‘the Jewish star” -- has six points.”  

“Hmm…” Lance looks up at the tree, tapping his chin.  Pidge can practically see the gears turning in his head.  They’re impressed with the amount of thought he is putting into this blending of holidays thing.  Suddenly his face lights up.  “I’ve got it!”  He hops over the now mostly-empty decoration box and slides on his socks into his bedroom.  He’s around the corner, but they can still hear him moving things around in his room.  There’s a sound like keys clicking, then the  _ whirrrr  _ of a printer followed by the  _ snip, snip _ of scissors.  A minute later, he dashes out of his room and skids into the kitchen, socks sliding on the linoleum floor.  Pidge just watches from their seat on the couch in amusement as he rummages around in the junk drawer for a minute.  

“Aha!”  He holds up something thin and white, looking victorious.  He turns his back to them for a few minutes, hiding whatever he was doing.  When he’s finished with whatever he’s working on, he takes a few running steps and slides back over to Pidge, who wants to call Lance’s grandmother and personally tell her that the fuzzy socks she gave him for his birthday are being put to frequent use as skates on their wooden floors.  Grinning, he holds up a blue and white star of David that looks like he printed it off of google images and cut it out, with two twist-ties attached to the side points of the star.  

Pidge raises an eyebrow, half impressed, half wondering what he plans to do with his creation.

“We can put it on top of the tree!”  Lance explains, answering their unspoken question.

“Again, you do know that Hanukkah trees aren’t a real thing that people do, right?”  Pidge asks.  

Lance’s smile slips.  “Is it offensive?”  

“No, no,” Pidge reassures him.  “No reason we can’t start a new tradition, after all.”  They add after a moment’s thought.  

Lance beams.  He pushes the paper star into Pidge’s hands and turns around, crouching down.  “Okay, hop on, and I’ll lift you while you put it on.”

“You could just borrow my stool.”  Pidge points out.  Much to Lance’s amusement, Pidge did, in fact, have a small step stool that they kept folded up in the corner of the kitchen, which they used to get to the higher cabinets in the kitchen and to reach the lights when a bulb needed to be changed.   

“This will be more fun.  Hop on up!”  Lance said.  Pidge sighed.

“You’d better not drop me.”  They warn, bracing their hands on his shoulders before hopping onto his back.  

“I would never.”  Lance grabs the backs of their legs and straightens up.  

“You did when we watched Star Trek last month.”  

“Dropping you onto a giant bean-bag chair doesn’t count.”  Lance reminds them, stepping closer to the tree.  “Okay, now I’m the leg power, you’re the arm power.  Together, we can get this star on top of the tree!”

“You are such a dork.”  Pidge snorts, smiling fondly.  

“Hey, like attracts like.”  Lance shrugs.  

Pidge lets go of Lance’s shoulders and leans forward to wrap the twist ties around the top of the fake tree.  Once they have it secured, they adjust the star’s position so that it’s balancing in the plastic foliage.  It looks quite nice, actually.  

“How’s it going, arms?”  Lance asks.  

“It looks good.”  Pidge sits back and rests their hands on his shoulders again.  “You can let me down, now.”  

They know they’re in trouble when Lance just shoots them a mischievous grin over his shoulder.  He takes a few steps back from the tree, then starts spinning around in circles.  Pidge lets out a startled yelp and grabs onto his shoulders, leaning in against the centrifugal force.  “ _ Lance _ !”  He doesn’t stop spinning, and they’re forced to wrap their arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist to keep from falling.  

When he finally stops, both of them are dizzy and laughing.  Everything feels tilted and spinny still, so Pidge keeps clinging to his back like a koala while the world keeps going around them.  The lights and shiny ornaments look pretty psychedelic now, sliding along the ground at an angle before the image settles.  Pidge lets go with one hand to lightly bat him on the head.  “Bad legs.”  

“You know you liked it.”  Lance replies easily.  Their stomach does a little flip when he suddenly drops onto the couch, Pidge still on his back.  “Besides, maybe I just wanted a hug.”  

“You can just  _ ask _ , then,” Pidge tells him.  “No need to spontaneously turn into the spinning teacup ride at an amusement park.”  

“You’re  _ my  _ cup of tea, and you can ride me anytime you want.”  They can’t see his face from this angle, but they can hear the smirk in the tone of his voice.  They roll their eyes and swat at his head as they scoot out from between him and the couch back.  

“I think that’s your worst one yet.”  They tell him, cuddling up next to him on the couch.  He leans back and tucks his arm around their shoulders, and the two of them look up at their tree together.  The white lights reflect off the silver and blue ornaments, and a few lightbulbs at the top even shine through the paper and make the printed-out star of David seem to glow.  It’s a nice blend of the two holidays and cultures.  Pidge reflects that the two of them are much like this tree; a blend of two things that are usually separate.  A blend of introvert and extrovert, of noise and quiet, of early birds and night owls, of logical method and bursts of creativity.  Even their relationship is a blend of things rather than clear-cut; certain romantic elements mixing with platonic structure to create something that is uniquely them.

Lance leans closer and presses a quick peck to their cheek.  “Happy holidays.”

Pidge chuckles and winds an arm around his waist.  “Happy holidays.”        

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if Shippy will read this one but if she does, yes, this is inspired by the “when roommates collide” incident in which a friend’s menorah ended up tied to the top of another friend’s Christmas tree. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you all had a wonderful winter holiday season, whatever you celebrate! ✩°｡⋆⸜(ू｡•ω•｡)
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed it!  
> I've also got a [ tumblr](http://gold-leeaf.tumblr.com/), if you want to see me scream about voltron and some other things.


End file.
